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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24609547">Pineapples</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syndianites/pseuds/Syndianites'>Syndianites</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Mianite (Roleplay Series), Mianite (Web Series), Mianite - Fandom, Mianite Fandom, Mianite RPF, Mianitian Isles, Mianitian Isles (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Dianitee!Jordan, Gen, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Ianitee!Tom, Mianitian Isles - Freeform, Realm of Mianite</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 09:00:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,745</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24609547</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syndianites/pseuds/Syndianites</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world made of beginnings, it’s hard for things to stay the same. Tom and Jordan certainly didn’t.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Captain Sparklez &amp; Lord Dianite, Jordan Maron &amp; Lord Dianite, Tom Cassell &amp; Lady Ianite, Tom Syndicate &amp; Lady Ianite</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Pineapples</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tom thought of pineapples the day things shift.</p><p>It’s weird to consider. How what had seemed so solid, so steadfast, could slide just a touch to the left and change.</p><p>He wondered why he didn’t see it coming sooner-</p><p>
  <i>-an arrow sailing through the air, smooth and undeterred. He knew it would land before it left his fingers. All he felt was cold, cold, cold-</i>
</p><p>-but he supposed that wasn’t really his job. Thinking was hard. It was Jordan’s job.</p><p>That brought a frown to his face. He supposed, again, that there were a lot of things that weren’t his job, now. A lot of things that were Jordan’s.</p><p>Tom was lazing about on the courthouse island, gazing up at the sky from the top of the arch. He imagined Jordan on his island doing the same- no armor, no weapons, just him and the grass around him, soaking in the sun. But he knew better. Jordan was likely tinkering away, having too many restless thoughts to take a breather.</p><p>Maybe that was why they had changed so much.</p><p>
  <i>He could always see the gears turning in Jordan’s eyes, as though he were an automaton. Thoughts going click, click, click, churning and burning away until he got to a conclusion. It annoyed him. Where was the peace in always thinking? Tom was an avid believer in not thinking too much.</i>
</p><p>There was a lot he didn’t want to think about.</p><p>Or maybe they hadn’t changed at all.</p><p>But there was a simmer underneath his skin, a buzz of energy that was new to him. Tom was used to warmth, an unseen fire swelling in his chest and heating his veins. It was passion, it was drive, it pushed him to do, do, do. To laugh with friends, to destroy their lives, to wrap an arm around them, to slice a line down their torso.</p><p>There was no warmth, now. Just that buzz, that thrum. Distant but there all the same. Like an echo, a low bell bouncing between the walls of an empty village.</p><p>Tom pulled his hat down over his eyes. He was a pirate. Jordan was a captain. That should have made their roles clear, right? Simple, straight forward.</p><p>Jordan, the captain, would keep things together, keep things settled and neutral.</p><p>Tom, the pirate, would push buttons and steal shit, stir up trouble with each breath.</p><p>He thought, suddenly, of Capsize and her crew. Pirates in their own right, filled with mischief and wanting to stir up trouble of another kind. Maybe he should have known, then, what would happen. What being a pirate meant.</p><p>
  <i>A whispered request. A hushed promise. “Pretend,” had been asked of him. “Of course,” he nodded. He didn’t know it yet, but that would be a lie, would be the final nail in the coffin.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>A burial at sea, his body left to float along gentle waves, going out in a blaze of glory only to get snuffed out by endless water. The irony wasn’t lost on him.</i>
</p><p>He thought of pineapples, instead. They were sweet. A delicacy. Made for warm, tropical climates.</p><p>It’d been a while since he had one. Tom had always been unsure if he’d liked them. Sure, they were sweet, but there was a tartness to them, a bit of flavor that stole away the sweetness. He could only have a few pieces before he had to stop and think about it.</p><p>Did he actually like it?</p><p>They were rare and interesting. It was hard to grow them here. The Isles were somewhere between temperate and warm- something Jordan had mentioned once. The salty sea didn’t help them grow one bit.</p><p>Tom laced his fingers together over his chest.</p><p>
  <i>His words were sweet rolling over his ears. Tiny praises encouraging violence. Syrupy voice pushing him towards destruction. That rush of seeing something explode, the stark reality of just what he had destroyed.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Watching quartz fall, fall, fall. Watching red drip, drip, drip. There were a lot of things he’d ruined to feel loved.</i>
</p><p>Something else Jordan had mentioned, that sparkle in his eye as he divulged more information to Tom that he figured would be forgotten in minutes- but that Tom had held onto, curiously enough- was that pineapples dissolve proteins.</p><p>Something about a chemical- a cell? Something that sounded like science- that ate away at flesh if left on your tongue too long.</p><p>
  <i>“Basically, pineapples eat you back!” A laugh. “I guess that’s the give and take of life, right? The balance between plants and animals.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>He’d said it as a joke, but Tom’s mind latched onto it. He wondered what else nature tried to hold onto to keep balance. What it was like to be a plant that knew nothing about how powerless it was. That didn’t know there were beings bigger and stronger than them, beings that wanted to eat them, ruin them.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Then he thought about a hooded figure with a god-killing sword and he stopped thinking for the day.</i>
</p><p>Tom, of all people, would be the one to know about eating flesh. Or, that’s what the others assumed. A zombie is a zombie, right? Hungry, yearning, surely he’d tried it once, had been curious enough?</p><p>But he didn’t know. He knew about craving, he knew about the desperate need to feel sated, but not the feeling of tearing and blood dripping-</p><p>He breathed out.</p><p>No, he didn’t know about dissolving flesh beneath his teeth. He knew about a sickly sweetness meant to hide ill-intent. He knew about that sharp, tart aftertaste of falling for a trick, of being the butt of the joke.</p><p>Tom swallowed heavily, mouth dry and throat sticky.</p><p>He knew-</p><p>
  <i>- eyes that lingered on a man obsessed with purple-</i>
</p><p>-that sometimes things weren’t what they seemed. How-</p><p>
  <i>- someone can change in an instant, from a detached sort, only interested in a request to lively, excited to see <s>someone that was not you</s> -</i>
</p><p>-you can think a certain way for a long, long time and still be proven wrong. That a fire can only burn as long as there is something keeping it alive. From firewood, to random kindling, to even the scraps of dead leaves floating down from the trees above.</p><p>Or fully blossomed poppies, deep red and gorgeous. Freshly picked with clumsy hands.</p><p>That was the point, wasn’t it? Despite how sweet Dianite had been, it meant nothing to him. It was all just scraps thrown Tom’s way to string him along, to make him believe he was valued.</p><p>To use him as Dianite had seen fit, to have him put pressure on Ianite. On Jordan. To cause enough ruckus and upset in Jordan that his faith- once so unshakable that it held through neglect, through death, through the harsh doubt that came with a goddess unknown- would be shaken.</p><p>To make Jordan feel as though Dianite would love him more than the goddess who had looked for him, waited for him, cherished him.</p><p>Tom grit his teeth. He wanted to convince himself he felt bad for Ianite. That he felt a hard and fast compassion for her, that there was a shred of good left in his heart to feel such a thing.</p><p>But he was jealous. Painfully so. Every time he had to vie for praise, for affection, for appreciation. Had to put himself out there, do more, be more, had to practically grovel at his god’s feet to get even flippant, uncaring praise.</p><p>All Jordan had to do was breathe. To let the gears in his robot brain tick endlessly forward. Have his thoughts always make sense and his memory perfect. He just had to read, and understand, and make things better than Tom could dream of.</p><p>Jordan was a captain, but he was also an engineer, a man dedicated to studying, to constant growth.</p><p>Tom was a pirate. He stole his success from tiny moments of happiness. Plundered the wealth of those around him to feel like he had any.</p><p>Time and time again, the world showed that it loved smarts over strength, but how easily had Jordan crumbled to temptation in the past? How many times had he fallen to petty tricks, to getting riled up, to being pushed a fraction of an inch outside his comfort zone?</p><p>Tom had done a lot of things he never thought he could. </p><p>He’d become friends with Karl after weeks of seeing Tucker- hell, even Sonja- in him, friends he had no guarantee of seeing ever again.</p><p>He’d settled his grievances with Mot despite the sick feeling of being replaced. Hadn’t he replaced Mot, though?</p><p>He’d fought friends. He’d fought himself. He’d fought his god.</p><p>Tom had chosen his friends over his god, who had meant everything to him.</p><p>
  <i>An arrow hit its mark. He’d meant everything to him, yet nothing.</i>
</p><p>Tom didn’t feel fire in his veins anymore. Just that buzz. That hum. Whispers of something beyond this world. A tingle under his skin that felt like stars. Or, perhaps, the fuzz of the Void.</p><p>He’d turned his back on Dianite again. Of course he had. After all, that seemed to be the theme- forsaking your gods. Karl had done it-</p><p>
  <i>- on accident, it was an accident. There was so much hurt in Karl’s eyes, so much fear. A voice had been whispering in Tom’s ear, but all he could focus on was the worry and concern in Karl’s eyes as Mianite flitted about erratically before them.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>He shouldn’t have thrown down the armor-</i>
</p><p>-Jordan had done it, guess it was time for Tom to do it too.</p><p>And who better to turn to than Ianite? At least they could bond over being abandoned.</p><p>Somehow, he didn’t think it’d work out that easily. There was too much chaos in Tom, too much destruction and ruination and too much ready to explode. He was volatile, hurting, running on fumes of a fire long burnt out.</p><p>A gentle breeze caressed his face, pushing his hat up enough for him to peak out at the land around him. Purple caught his eye. Flowers, young and budding and barely there, had grown about him while he’d laid there.</p><p>Tom reached back up to pull his hat down once more. His head pounded. But instead of exploding, unleashing the torment he’d felt for years, tears trailed down his face.</p><p>There was a sniffle beside him and he knew he wasn’t alone.</p><p>That was a start, at least.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I might make a bigger fic out of this idea.</p><p>It'd focus on Ianite and Tom trying to figure out how balance should work when they don’t click well. The side pieces would be Dianite and Jordan building into a dynamic duo, while Jordan starts to realize just what his choice means, and Karl trying to work things out with Mianite when he knows that order is not in his veins.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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